The Dreams of Thieves
by TimeTot1997
Summary: 17-year-old Anastasia Lawson lives on the streets and she has a dream that nobody believes that she will make come true. When one of her friend's die and she becomes a suspect, her talent and her gifts become known to Jack and Phryne. Can she look after the others who are less fortunate than her and help the Police in this very personal case?
1. The Street Rat and the Death

_**A/N:** If you don't like the plot or characters that I have placed, then don't read this story. If there are any mistakes, I solemnly apologise, I'm not very familiar with the 1920's era, especially Australia 1920's. But I will do some thorough research._

 ** _DISCLAIMER:_** _All is owned by Kerry Greenwood and the amazing people who brought the books on screen._

 ** _WORD COUNT: 3,132  
_**

* * *

 ** _Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries_**

 ** _Dreams of Thieves_**

 ** _Chapter 1: The Street Rat and the Death.  
_**

* * *

Detective Inspector Jack Robinson sat in his office chair of City South Police Station, it was a quiet day for once, which rather unsettled him. He knew that if it was a quiet day today, a death would occur tomorrow. That's what he had taught himself in all of his policing years. There truly was no rest for the wicked -or those that brought the wicked to heel-. He could hear his Senior Constable, Hugh Collins, remarking to one of his fellow colleagues about how peaceful it was-

 _"Get your hands off me! I have rights, y'know!"_

Then again, maybe not as peaceful as they were hoping.

 _"Let me go! I didn't do anything wrong!"_

Jack sighed and slid out of his chair, fixing his suit somewhat before opening his office door to see what all the noise about. "What's going on out here?" He demanded, in his usual stern voice. He set his sights on the new transfer, Constable Harris. "Harris, what are you doing?" Jack asked, exasperated already, knowing that this was going to be a poor excuse.

"I caught this street rat, stealing precious valubables from the local art stall. I caught her red-'anded with at least a couple 'undred pounds worth of art supplies." Harris grinned at his superior, still holding the young girl prisoner, her wrists red from his tight grip.

"Let me go, you stupid idiot! It's valuables, you daft imbecile and I didn't steal anything, I was _browsing!"_ The dark haired girl struggled in Constable Harris' tight grip. "You're hurting me! Let go!" She roared, her hair swinging in front of her face, so Jack couldn't tell what she looked like.

"Constable Harris, let the poor girl go, I believe you're bruising her." Jack ordered, silently agreeing with the girl's insults. Harris was probably the most incompetent police officer next to Detective Inspector O'Shaugnessy. "Do you have any of the stolen items?" Jack inquired, looking at Constable Harris with cold gray eyes.

"U-uh, no Inspector. . .I gave 'em back to the owner. He seemed adamant on the thought that she was stealing. And quite frankly, I think she was casing the stall." Harris announced, quite happy with his first arrest.

"Constable Harris," Jack started, sighing once more. "That has to be the most feeble excuse for an arrest I have ever heard. You have no proof that she was stealing, apart from stall owner's _perception_ of this young girl and you let your own judgement be your cause for arrest. Add wrongful handling to your long list of misdemeanors. If I catch you doing something this reckless and stupid again, I will suspend you, pending a further investigation. Is that clear, Constable?" Jack watched as Constable Harris' face went to flushed with pride to pale with fear.

"Y-yes, sir." Constable Harris instantly unhanded the young girl and with his head down, cheeks flaming with embarrassment, he walked for the staff room.

Jack looks at the girl, taking in her appearance. A dirty, tattered dress, messy, nappy dark auburn red hair. Underneath all the dirt and grime, pale and unblemished skin. No shoes or socks on bare feet.

His heart stopped at her bony frame and the now purple bruises on her wrists. "Excuse me, miss. If you could. . " Jack gestured to his office and the girl stood, walking to his office without a word. She obviously didn't want to be felt sorry for. Jack walked behind her, closing the door to his office and gesturing to the seat opposite his.

She sat without hesitation and swept her hair away from her face and Jack was stunned to see her face.

A heart-shaped face, a small nose, full rosebud lips, warm green eyes that seemed to warm him from the inside. She didn't look like she belonged on the street, though neither did Jane and she had lived most of her life in the harsh living conditions she was dealt with.

"Did you steal though art supplies, or were you just looking at them?" Jack asked, although he already knew the answer.

"I was just looking. I picked them up to have a look. I had a few bob from my various jobs. i just help people out when they need it and they give me a couple of pounds. Then that stupid old codger though I was stealing and then he called over that idiotic police officer and here I am." The girl threw up her arms in exasperation, her green eyes brimming with sincerity.

"I believe you. What's your name?" He asked, trying to gain her trust with small talk.

"Anastasia. My name is Anastasia." She told him, looking up with one dark eyebrow raised. "What's your name? It's only fair."

Jack smiled softly and answered promptly. "My name is Jack Robinson, Miss Anastasia." Anastasia answered his smile with one of her own soft grins that didn't reach her eyes.

"It's nice to meet you, Officer Robinson." She said with a cheeky twinkle in her eyes and he lowered his head while still looking at her, responding to her look with a teasing one of his own.

"Detective Inspector, actually." Jack corrected. He didn't know why he was talking so openly with this young girl. Possibly because she reminded him of Jane, or because of the predicament she was born in, he felt sorry for her. In any case, she brought out something in him that he thought had died years ago, during the war. Much like Miss Fisher brought out the best in him, despite the fact that he was married to Rosie during the start of their partnership.

As he looked up, a furious Phryne Fisher barged her way into his office, her french perfume permeated the air and he reveled in the scent. It was by far one of the most exquisite scents he had ever had the pleasure of committing to memory, although he would never admit that fact out loud.

"Jack, I do hope you do something about that new transfer! He just grabbed this poor girl and marched her right away from this cart after the stall manager just screamed and carried on that she was stealing. I could tell she wasn't! I demand that something be done!" Phryne ranted, looking at Jack with barely restrained anger.

"Miss Fisher, what a surprise!" Jack said sarcastically. "To what do I owe the honor of your visit?" He asked cordially, earning a scolding look from his lady detective partner.

"I demand that, that impertinent Constable be brought to justice, or very least, scolded horribly for his rash behavior!" Phryne demanded, not understanding Jack's amused look."Something amusing, Jack? Does the wrongful treatment of those less fortunate entertain you?" She knew it was a low blow, but she couldn't help it. She knew the struggles of being one of the less fortunate. She had also adopted one of the girls who had been thrust into that cruel lifestyle and learnt about the dangers that lurked around every dark corner and every alley. She was protective of them and only wanted to help each and every one of the poor souls subjected to the life that she lead before.

Yet Jack didn't look the least bit offended. He knew where her insults lay and that she poured no emotion in what would be cruel words, if she meant them. "Not at all, Miss Fisher. Just that for once, I'm two steps ahead. Meet Miss Anastasia, the wrongfully accused. I have already scolded Constable Harris and he is definitely paying the price. I doubt he will make a false assumption again as long as he is under my authority and I will make it my personal mission to make sure that none of my officers wrongfully accuse those that are less fortunate than they." Jack explained calmly, seeing the look of awe and joy as Phryne considered his words.

She smiled gently, her red lips upturned in a beautiful smile as all protective and angry feelings vanished and she turned to the girl. Her heart lurched in her chest as she studied the young girls features. She was obviously older than Jane and looked a lot more scuffled and a lot more street smart. Her dark auburn hair and green eyes were a contrasting factor in her appearance, as was her pale, unmarked skin. Although it was covered by dirt and grime. She was at least 17 at best. There was a cheeky twinkle in her eyes that Phryne instantly liked and an air of bravery and confidence that Phryne herself exuded.

"Hello, Anastasia, my name is Phryne Fisher. It's nice to meet you." She took off one white glove and held out her bare hand.

Anastasia eyed it warily, but decided that the woman wouldn't cause harm to her and slowly lifted her dirty hand and shook it with Phryne's clean one. Most people would turn their noses up at Anastasia, and they would only shake her hand with gloves on, but this woman took off her glove and met skin on skin. That, Anastasia admired. It made her seem less like an animal than what people made her to be. "It's nice to meet you too, Miss Fisher. And please, just call me Ana. Everyone else does." Ana said in a soft voice, obviously admiring the beauty of the woman in front of her.

Phryne let out a large grin. "Very well, and you may call me, Phryne. Though hardly anyone else does." She said, reciting the same line she had delivered to Jack, who remembered the fond memory with a grin.

"Thank you, Phryne." Ana said without hesitation.

"Well, since you are not guilty of any crime. I don't see why you can't go home now." Jack said, smiling gently at the girl. He was certain she had no home, but he didn't want to keep her from anything. Girls her age, still on the street, were probably looking after a younger group of children in the same predicament, hiding from Child Services.

"Thank you, Inspector Robinson, Phryne." Ana bid her goodbyes and walked out of the Police station, running down the street.

Phryne's eyes followed Ana's movements until she disappeared around the corner and then she turned to her Inspector. "I'm surprised, Jack, I would have thought that you would have had someone following her and then call Child Services."

"Normally I would, but I don't think I could do it now. Miss Anastasia seemed like she's got a lot on her plate. You know, as well as I, that a girl as old as her would have a younger group of children to look after. Those children probably look up to her, I don't want to leave them to fend for themselves while she's gone." Jack explained his motives, looking up at Phryne who nodded in agreement with his statement.

"A young girl like Ana, would be under so much pressure, looking after a group of children and making sure they are fed and have a place to lay their head for the night. Without the worries of Child Services breathing down their necks. Those places. . must be the things nightmares are made of." Phryne said, shifting her gaze back to where Ana had disappeared.

Jack nodded, before turning back to his paperwork, which started playful banter from Phryne.

(..)

"Come on, you lot. Time for bed." Ana spoke gently, tucking in the younger children in their makeshift bed. Unless you call a sheet on the cold floor with a pillow and blanket to somehow bring comfort and warmth a bed. One of the younger children, Freddy, ran to her with a tattered book.

"Read this to us, tonight? We voted on this one." Freddy said, his sandy blonde head stuck to his head in dirty strands and his big brown eyes sparkled from his gaunt face.

"Alright, Freddy. I'll read this one." Ana agreed and smiled as Freddy bounded to his bed and lay down, watching as he got comfortable with his pillow, showing no discomfort whatsoever. Freddy had never felt the feeling of a soft and comfortable mattress underneath his body and thick covers to cover himself even more and provided more warmth, a fluffy pillow that was cleaned periodically and wasn't ridden with lice.

He never complained, but since he was 7, he didn't know what the outer world offered and stole. How giving it could be, and how it could rip away what it gave in less than a heartbeat.

Ana opened the book and started to read about Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. When she finished, the children were asleep soundly and she smiled at each one, before putting the book back in the pile and she went to the elder boys and girls who had come back from their day and they set the food they had stolen. Every portion was shared among the group and was overseen by Ana.

She quickly surveyed the group and frowned in concern. "Where's Sam?" She asked, and her gaze switched to each forlorn face.

"We couldn't find him. We searched every inch of the city. We couldn't find him anywhere. You know how he is. He'll probably come back in the middle of the night as per usual." Helena piped up, looking at Ana with a hopeful smile, which Ana returned.

"Yeah, right. He's probably dead. Lifeless in some ditch somewhere." One of the other girls, Sandra spoke up rudely. She had often butted heads with Ana, both were 17 but Ana was older by a few months. Sandra always told Ana that she wasn't doing anything for them and that they should all leave, or at the very least, get rid of the younger children, as they held the older ones back. Only a handful of people agreed with her view.

Ana told her to pack her things and leave if she thought that she should leave the younger kids.

Of course, Sandra and the handful of of her followers came grovelling back after a week of fending for themselves.

Ana allowed them back into the group, but Sandra still shared her view, whether it was needed or not and constantly grated on Ana's nerves, but she never let it show.

"Shut up, Sandra! He'll come back!" A boy piped up, Thomas. He was Sam's good friend and several boys murmured their agreements, throwing an insult or two to Sandra, who seemed to shrink inside herself.

"Alright, that's enough. We're all tired, frustrated and I think we could all use with some rest. So, let's pack all this up and head off to bed. We have enough to keep us fed for at least a week. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. So let's go to bed." Ana placated and all of the others seemed to relax at her words. Only Sandra seemed intent on defying Ana, but then she too felt the overwhelming need to sleep and found herself in her uncomfortable 'bed'.

She felt someone pulling up the covers over her shoulders and her eyes opened a fraction to see Ana, pushing the covers to her neck to keep her warm. "Goodnight, Sandra." Ana whispered before moving to the next kid and did the same thing before heading to her own bed. Sandra curled up, wondering if Ana did that every night. She fell asleep wondering if Ana really did only care for their well-being, she wasn't the only one noticing that Ana was getting skinnier, giving up her portions of food to the elder and younger kids who didn't get as much as the others.

(..)

"Collins. What do we have?" Jack asked as he walked over to his crime scene.

"A young boy. By the looks of him, he lived on the streets. A young couple found him on their morning walk and called it in. He had a little notepad on his person and a scrap of material with some string attached. Here you are." Collins handed over the evidence and Jack looked very impressed as he took the evidence.

"Well done, Collins." Jack praised and looked at the brimming notepad. He opened it and took a loose folded piece of paper and as he opened it, he looked at the very detailed drawing of young and older children in a group. He could make out every face with great detail. No face was recognizable to him, apart from the deceased. But whoever had drawn the portrait, had a gift and they were incredibly talented. He opened a few more pieces of identical looking paper and he came across one of the drawings that made his heart stop. It was a sketch of a young girl in front of a broken mirror drawn in perfect detail. Like it was a photograph.

It was Ana.

She was smiling up at him, her eyes warm and her face more filled out, more youthful. She was young and she didn't look as if the years on the street had taken their toll on her, she didn't have tension at the corner of her eyes and the curve of her lips as she smiled.

She was carefree.

She had known this boy and she was the only lead to finding the killer, if she wasn't the killer.

He had to consult Phryne on this, maybe she could help, or Jane could identify Ana and maybe help on her whereabouts.

He hoped sincerely that young Ana was not the killer and that she was just an innocent bystander in all this.

He really did.

* * *

 **Hi everyone!  
**

 **RIKOREN here,**

 **this is my first Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries fic, so please be good to me. I hope you enjoy this story. I quite like it and I have quite a few ideas for the new chapter. So stay tuned.**

 **Thank you,**

 **RIKOREN xD**

 **Review. Follow. Favourite**


	2. Suspects?

_**A/N:** If you don't like the plot or characters that I have placed, then don't read this story. If there are any mistakes, I solemnly apologize, I'm not very familiar with the 1920's era, especially Australia 1920's._

 ** _DISCLAIMER:_** _All is owned by Kerry Greenwood and the amazing people who brought the books on screen._

 ** _WORD COUNT: 2,566  
_**

* * *

 ** _Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries_**

 ** _Dreams of Thieves_**

 ** _Chapter 2: Suspects?  
_**

* * *

Jack knelt down in front of the body. The young boy was splayed across the ground of the park, dumped haphazardly in a large bush and during the course of the late morning, a young couple were taking a stroll in the park and they found a hand peeking from the brush. The man, who was later identified as Henry Wilkinson, ran to help (who he thought was) a boy in need of help, only later to pull the boy from the bush and find that he was dead.

That was what Jack had heard from Hugh when he asked about witnesses.

"I also took the liberty of calling Miss Fisher, sir. Maybe she could know somebody who could help identify this John Doe for us?" Hugh suggested, looking up at Jack.

"Good thinking, Constable. But right now, the only lead we have, is the young girl that Constable Harris brought in, yesterday." Jack showed Hugh the drawings.

"Oh my goodness, sir! Do you think that girl drew those?" Hugh asked, in awe of the young girl's talents.

"Well, she has signed her name on the bottom. I believe we will need to track down Miss Lawson. let's see if there's any Lawson's living nearby to see if they're missing an Anastasia."

"Yes, sir. I'll get right on it." Hugh started to walk, scribbling in his notebook, before he stopped and turned back to Jack. "Uh, sir, are you going to Miss Fisher's now?" At Jack's questioning gaze, Hugh quickly fell over himself to explain his question, "just so I know where to contact you if I come through any connection with Anastasia Lawson."

"Oh, yes. I'll be heading over there shortly. Just ring there if there's anything worth value telling me." Jack ordered, nodding at Hugh who nodded back and set off to the police car and he drove away.

Shortly after, the Medics came and took the body away in a stretcher, no doubt going to deliver the body to the coroner. He hoped Dr Mac was in, she was always more forthcoming than Dr Johnson.

(..)

"A young boy?" Phryne asked, her horrified expression captured exactly what Jack had felt when he gazed at the young unidentified boy who lay on the grass, dead. He had seen too many bodies like that, and not just in his career. Every time he had the unfortunate chance to see a young man, barely reaching adulthood, lifeless. It always pulled him back to the endless nightmares in the trenches as they fought for Queen and country. It was a never-ending nightmare and he just wanted it to end.

A feeling of pure, animalistic rage threatened to take him. What had the war been for, if boys were still dying to survive in a world that, to them, was cold and cruel? What did he fight for if the beloved Queen wasn't doing anything to help those in need?

"Jack?" Phryne pulled him out of his reverie, her soft hand pressed against his forearm, gently shaking him to reality.

Jack took a deep shuddering breath and nodded. "Yes, a young boy. Barely twenty." He couldn't stop the uneven tone of his voice as he rubbed his forehead with his fingertips in agitation.

Phryne noticed every emotion and every little movement Jack made. He was livid, as was she. Both were reminded of worse times, both had seen death and the lives of those who could have made an impact on the world, those who had families and children to go home to. Those that had nothing to go back to, but fought for honour, for Queen and country, not expecting to come home alive and then those who were young, thought to be invincible and those who came back, were never the same again.

Jack had witnessed death, the sound of the gun and the blood spatter that accompanied a gunshot wound, fatal or not fatal. He knew it all too well. The lush tearing of skin as a bayonet tore through the stomach in one swift motion and the agonizing screams that followed.

Phryne had a much different view, yet it was bathed in the same horrible light. Men, screaming for death, welcoming it as she tried to keep them alive. The men holding her hand as they whispered for her to tell whoever they lived with, their children and their partners, mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers to tell them of their love with their dying breath. Her hands soaked in blood from different men, different wounds, every one took its toll. Men had died in her arms as she soothed them with her shaky words and her angelic face and they left with some sense of peace that they would be reunited with their families once more.

The death of this young boy would take its toll on both Jack and Phryne and they knew it.

"We have reason to believe that Ana, or, as we have just discovered, Anastasia Lawson, is connected to the deceased." Jack said, trying to rid himself of the dark thoughts that overrode him.

Phryne looked up at Jack, the haunted look in her eyes slowly disappearing as her deductive skills seemed to be at work. "The girl that was in your office, the one accused of stealing? How is she connected to the young man?" Phryne asked in confusion, her dark eyebrows furrowing.

Jack reached into his pocket and produced the notebook, in a brown envelope, taking out and handing it to her. "Look at the loose papers inside and you'll see." As Phryne did as she was told, Jack explained. "I had a flip through the notebook, it seems to be a small diary of sorts. His hand is quite neat and he is well articulated for a boy who lived on the street which suggests perhaps an unfinished education. He speaks of various people, including our suspect, Miss Lawson." Jack explained and Phryne opened up one of the folded papers and gasped at the image displayed.

"This is magnificent." Phryne surveyed the landscape of Melbourne sketched from some rooftop somewhere. Obviously capturing Melbourne in its glory. She took the wad of folded papers and looked at the various portraits of little children that posed and even some people in the street that were unsuspecting. She opened each one and every one took her breath away, she got to the last one and opened it, revealing the younger version of Ana drawing herself in the broken mirror and tears welled in her eyes. "Jack. ." She whispered.

"I know. She looks so young and so innocent, not suited for the harsh conditions of the streets." Jack breathed, looking at Phryne. "Do you think Jane would know where I could find her? Maybe Miss Lawson and Jane crossed paths during the duration of her time on the street?" Jack asked, looking at Phryne questioningly.

"Let me call her down." Phryne said, standing and walking upstairs.

A few minutes later, Phryne came back with Jane in tow.

"Good morning, Inspector." Jane said, politely with a soft smile which Jack returned.

"Good morning, Jane. I was hoping you could help me with something." Jack said, gesturing to the notebook and the opened sketches lay on top of one another in a messy fashion.

Jane nodded. "Phryne told me. Is it alright if I take a look through these?" Jane asked, pointing to the papers. Jack nodded, motioning for her to do ask pleases. Jane sat in the seat that Phryne had vacated earlier and started to sift through the pages, smiling as she observed each one. "They're so beautiful. Majestic even." Jane murmured to herself, but Phryne caught most of it and smiled at the perceptiveness of her adopted daughter. Jane revealed the sketch of Ana and nodded. "That's Ana. She helped me out a couple of times when I needed a place to stay. She always let anybody in the fold. Even if it was for a night and she would feed us and give us some soap and a bucket to clean ourselves as well as we could. One of my only fond memories of the street is being in the care of Ana. She was so kind and so helpful. I remember that I never wanted to leave." Jane said gently, closing her eyes as she remembered her friend.

Phryne and Jack looked at each other. Jane had been in the care of this young girl and it was enough for Jane to remember years later. Extraordinary.

"Jane, do you remember where she let you rest your head?" Phryne asked, softly. She softly ran her hand against Jane's head.

"She's not in trouble is she?" Jane asked, her eyes guarded. She would protect her friend.

"No, not at all. We just need her help identifying a young man that was killed. We believe she may know him." Phryne placated her daughter.

"Do you remember where you stayed? We just need to find her. She hasn't done anything wrong." Jack agreed and Jane seemed to calm down.

"They all live in an abandoned apartment building. I remember where it was. I can write it down for you." Before Jack or Phryne could agree, Jane was already heading up the stairs to do so.

Jack and Phryne smiled at each other and waited for Jane to come down with the address.

(..)

Jack and Phryne pulled up to the apartment building in the police car. It didn't look safe for any kind of inhabitants. That's probably what made it so easy for them to squat inside it. They both stared at the windows and could see some movement inside.

"There are people inside the building. We have to be careful." Jack said to Phryne who nodded in agreement. "Okay." Jack acquiesced and they both got out of the car, slowly and carefully making their way to the front and Jack held his hand back and made contact with Phryne's stomach, as she went to surge forward. _"Slowly."_ Jack mouthed and he looked down at his hand and then back at Phryne who grinned up at him with her green eyes twinkling so many hidden meanings that jack nearly forgot about the task at hand.

Mentally shaking himself from the seductresses web, he rolled his eyes playfully and taking his hand away from her stomach, he rest it at the rusty doorknob before slowly turning it and he was met with no resistance. He slowly pushed it open and as the natural light was let in, Jack and Phryne's hearts broke at the sight they witnessed.

So many little children were playing around in their filth ridden home, they were playing a game of football with an empty food can, laughing and having fun, finding joy in even the darkest crevice. The older kids were sitting down, looking miserable with the conditions they lived in, but they were talking amongst themselves, sharing a few jokes here and there. Both Jack and Phryne's eyes scanned the room until they noticed one auburn-haired girl sitting on an old crate, her head bent low, concentrating on a beaten up sketch pad that was over flowing with sketches and was nearing the end of its journey.

As soon as the light hit the children, they all stopped and looked up to the newcomers. The younger ones screamed in fear, believing them to be the bad Child Services people and ran to hide behind Ana, who, not noticing who they were, had thrown down her sketch pad and tried to protect them with her body. Even the elder children hid behind Ana, apart from a few who helped form a battle line of sorts.

"What do you want?" Ana snarled, not knowing who the intruders were.

"Miss Lawson, nice to see you again." Jack said, walking out of the sunlight and his face was recognizable.

"Oh, Inspector Robinson! H-how do you know my last name? I never told you that." Anastasia said, instantly straightening from her defensive stance in front of those in her care and she looked rather apprehensive. "I've never met you before. How do you know my last name?"

"Does this look familiar?" Jack asked her, revealing the leather bound notebook, which was overflowing with the loose sketches.

"Oh God, no." Ana whispered, brokenly and she fell to her knees as her face betrayed such anguish and pain that Jack had never seen on such a young face.

"That's Sam's!" Thomas said, pointing to the notebook. "Where did you get it?" He demanded, looking at Jack with narrowed eyes.

Jack and Phryne looked at Ana, who was shaking. "He's gone. Sam's gone." She whispered and Phryne couldn't take it anymore. She ran to the young girls side and embraced her tightly and Ana let go of her control, screaming and crying into Phryne's arms. "SAMMY!" She howled, holding onto the older woman as a child would their mother.

Jack walked to Phryne and knelt down beside her, taking one of Ana's hands in his, hoping to somehow let her know, in her grief, that she wasn't alone.

The children all looked at Ana stricken, tears running down their cheeks and they slowly moved for Ana, still apprehensive of the newcomers. Yet one boy blatantly walked up and looked at Phryne and Jack. "You won't hurt me, will you?" He asked, his doe brown eyes wide with acceptance. Jack and Phryne both shook their heads, stating they wouldn't. As soon as that was done, the young boy launched himself onto Ana, holding her tightly.

"F-F-Freddy!" She sobbed, pulling the child onto her lap, still holding Jack's hand as she was still in Phryne's embrace.

"I've got you, Ana. I've got you." Freddy whispered, holding onto the girl who he thought of as his second mummy.

Soon enough, the other children started to gather and they started to hug Ana and give her a kiss on the cheek or a hug of reassurance.

Jack and Phryne looked at the scene, stunned. This young girl had touched the hearts of so many children; from some to the early age of five to the age of seventeen. She was a remarkable young lady.

Ana cried harder, unable to get herself under control, the grief too much for her.

"It's alright, darling. It's alright to cry." Phryne whispered, clutching Ana and now Freddy to her chest, Jack still holding Ana's hand, running his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion.

Neither Jack nor Phryne had thought they'd see the day when they would comfort a young girl together, like concerned parents.

What was this girl doing to them?


	3. Putting The Pieces Together

_**A/N:** If you don't like the plot or characters that I have placed, then don't read this story. If there are any mistakes, I solemnly apologize, I'm not very familiar with the 1920's era, especially Australia 1920's._

 ** _DISCLAIMER:_** _All is owned by Kerry Greenwood and the amazing people who brought the books on screen._

 ** _WORD COUNT: 1, 270  
_**

* * *

 ** _Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries_**

 ** _Dreams of Thieves_**

 ** _Chapter 3: Putting The Pieces Together_**

* * *

Jack laid Ana on the parlor couch gently, and she unconsciously manoeuvred herself to sleep in a more comfortable place on the lounge.

Straightening himself, he turned to Phryne who looked distraught. "I have never seen anyone in that much pain."

"I have." Jack said and looked at Phryne. "When you saw Janey's remains. That kind of pain can only come from losing a sibling or a relative. The deceased, Sam, may have been more to Ana than we know. When she wakes up, you realize I'll have to question her. I _need_ to get this case solved." Jack said, looking at Phryne, who understood.

"Alright, but she can have a bath and something substantial to eat and a change of clothes before you do." Phryne said, her soft green eyes watching the young woman. "The name _Lawson_ sounds very familiar, I'm just trying to make the connection."

"I've got Collins on it. He's looking for any family with the last name _Lawson_ to see if they're missing a daughter and now a son or a nephew. Then we can see why they were too busy to search for their missing kin. Tomorrow morning, we should go over to the Morgue to see what Dr Mac has found out." Jack said, sitting in one of the armchairs, sighing.

"You should rest, this is also taking its toll on you as well. I'll have Mr Butler fetch us some tea, or do you require something stronger?" Phryne asked.

"I'm undecided today. Whatever you deign to be more fitting in this situation." Jack said, smiling softly before turning his attention back to the sleeping Ana.

Phryne walked to the other side of the room and came back, brandishing a decanter of whiskey and two tumblers. She filled them modestly, setting the decanter and handing one glass to Jack. "Thank you, Miss Fisher." He said, before taking a sip of the amber liquid, enjoying the satisfying feeling as it warmed his chest, even though it scalded his throat somewhat. "What kind of relationship could Ana and Sam have that would make her react in such a way?" Jack asked, his eyes flicking to Phryne.

"Well-" Phryne started but was cut off

"He is- _was_ my big brother." A small, weak voice whispered from the young -supposedly sleeping- girl on the lounge, curling up as if to keep the pain away. Tears spilled from her eyes unbidden and uncontrollable. The phone started to ring as Phryne walked forward and pulled the young girl to her chest to comfort her.

"That could be Collins. He might have found information on some families with the same last name as Anastasia, maybe they can help tie up any loose ends as to why they have never searched for their relative or contacted the Police about this matter." Jack said and Phryne nodded, making a motion that meant for him to go ahead.

Jack stood and walked to the phone, answering it, "Fisher Residence, Inspector Robinson speaking."

 _"Sir, I found a match for Anastasia Lawson.. She is the missing daughter of Edward and Olivia Lawson. Apparently they are quite renowned for their various contributions to many charities and they sit on many boards, most of which Mrs Prudence Stanley's name came up. So, perhaps Miss Fisher would know them in passing. The Lawson's had notified the Police but then called off the search of their daughter after two days, claiming that it was no use."_

"But, that makes no sense. Why would you stop looking after your own child who could have died? How many years ago was this?" Jack asked, perplexed.

 _"According to the date on this notice, it was 7 years ago. She was 10 years old when she disappeared. They claimed she disappeared did all the time. Also, they are missing a son as well. A Samuel Lawson. He was 12 when he went missing, at the same time as Anastasia."_ Hugh answered, his voice barely restraining his anger and his confusion. Much like Jack.

"Okay, thank you Collins. You've really outdone yourself on this. Well done." Jack hung up, before rubbing his face, irritated and barely restraining his anger, hanging onto his control by a thread.

What was wrong with the world?

Walking back into Phryne's parlour, Phryne stood as she looked into his cold gray eyes. "Jack, what's happened?"

"We found a match." Jack said, his voice hard. Phryne nodded for him to continue, "Anastasia Lawson is the missing daughter of Edward and Olivia Lawson." Jack revealed.

Phryne's eyes widened as the connection made itself known. "My God! Edward and Olivia? Why wasn't anything said? Or done?" Phryne said, ramrod straight.

"Because they didn't care for me." Ana said, her face betraying her hatred for her family as Jack and Phryne turned their eyes toward her. "They had Sam, then two years later they had me. I was the mistake as they liked to remind me. I wasn't fit for any kind of society. I tried so hard to please them but they never thought anything I did was good enough. It was only Sam that really appreciated me. When we ran away, Sam stole a sketchbook, a diary and some utensils for me to draw and for him to write. And in the end, drawing became my passion and as I practiced, I became better. Suddenly, a life on the streets wasn't so bad." Ana explained.

"Why did you run away?" Phryne asked, staring at Ana with sad, sympathetic eyes.

Ana sighed and stood up, sliding off the dirty cardigan she wore and turned her back to them and lifted her ripped shirt up, they could see the raised scars, faded from the years, but they were still there. "They beat me for my worthlessness." Ana said and Phryne's heart stopped as Jack's hands clenched into fists.

"Oh my God. ." Phryne whispered as Ana let her shirt slide back down and she slid on her cardigan, turning to look at both Jack and Phryne.

"I better leave now." Jack said. "Miss Fisher, I will meet you at the Morgue promptly and if you would like to accompany me to the interviews at the Station."

"As always, Inspector." Phryne said and walked him out.

When Phryne re-entered the parlour, she looked at Ana but before she could say anything, Ana interrupted her. "I should get back to the apartment."

"No need, I've had Dot and Constable Collins as well as my drivers, Cec and Bert looking after them. They're in good hands. For tonight, I believe you will spend the night here. I'm going to give you a long hot bath and you can soak yourself until you feel clean, you can eat damn good food and sleep in a fine bed tonight. You deserve it." Phryne said, revealing her most blazing smile.

Ana's eyes welled with tears and she launched herself into Phryne's arms, hugging her tightly as she cried. "Thank you, Phryne."

"My pleasure, Ana. My pleasure."


End file.
